Who Am I Anyway? (Steve)

Several people asked "Where's Caitlin?" during rehearsal. I didn't have the word "anemia" on my device, so I said she was sick. We really need our fourth horn back, not only for musical reasons, but for reasons that even the most eloquent of writers fail to explain fully. Caitlin laughs like a bell. It is the genuine kind of laugh that comes from only the purest forms of pleasure. The fact that it is a rare sound makes it worth hearing even more. The trombone section is well-aware of this.

The other trumpets were in sectionals. I led them in our A Chorus Line music. We skipped the step, kick, kick, etc. parts and moved straight into music. I was surprised that Landon LaCoste had joined us for trumpet sectionals.
         "Aren't you supposed to be with the horns?"
         "My horn fell apart while I was practicing. It's at the shop. That and they want me on trumpet for this song. I have the fourth horn part." I took the fourth horn part. "Make sure that gets to Caitlin."
         "Thank you."

I led them in a few scales and lip slurs, then pointed out some important spots in I Hope I Get It. When we got to the slow part, we all played together despite the fact that it was a solo. We did the same for I Can Do That and Dance Ten, Looks Three. During I Can Do That, Landon tapped the steps out in his tennis shoes to prove, indeed, that he can do that. He said his steps were a terribly shoddy, but I saw no flaws. I was beginning to enjoy this guy, honestly.

We practiced more and more as a section until the whole band united. We read it together. The bass line didn't come out nearly enough. I could tell that everyone felt Caitlin's absence. She was probably asleep at home, probably thinking that no one thought anything of her. There was a fourth horn solo that went unplayed. Andrew decided to deliver the iron infusions at home due to her low energy levels. I kept playing, trying to keep my worries out of my head.

I felt like my head was spinning. My heart was trying to break out of my chest. Holding the phrase in front of me was unusually difficult. It wasn't a technically demanding piece, especially not for someone at the professional level. Still, I pushed on. I felt like ice water ran through my bloodstream. My hands were shaking. What was I feeling? Was I going to die? Am I feeling sensations that aren't there? But I'm feeling them all the same. Where are they coming from?

I tried to play the notes, but my breathing got more tense as the rehearsal progressed. Mark took things into his own hands for me. He asked me to come with him. I wanted to go, but anxiety chained me to the floor. I felt my seat getting wet and heard it spilling off the edge. When I realized what I had done, I fled the room. I've haven't had a daytime accident since I was ten. Even then, that one was at home and it's one bathroom to six people. Everything felt like it was swirling around me. I could hear him telling me to breathe deeply. I tried, but the air wouldn't come in. I tried again. Things started to stabilize.
         "All right. In for eight, out for sixteen." Mark's voice was clearer. I kept breathing. "Let's get you cleaned up." He gave me a pair of pants. (Why in the world would he have access to extra pants?) I went to the restroom, dried myself off, and changed into the new pants. I took my old pants and rinsed them in the sink. I continued with rehearsal. We were watching the original songs to get a feel for what we were supposed to perform.

During I Hope I Get It, we all started singing along. It was funny as well as painfully relatable for all of us. Caitlin would make a good Tricia in that horn solo. She's not used to playing exposed solos, but she is definitely good enough to do them. I think it would be a good, much-needed confidence booster for her. We all started singing along. One of the trombones jokingly suggested that we form a choir. A mostly bass/baritone choir? With some tenors who could maybe sing alto? And one soprano? How in the world would we balance that? I know! We can make Caitlin belt her face off all the time.

Dance Ten, Looks Three garnered many laughs from us. Mark volunteered to play it on flugelhorn or trumpet, depending on what would work better. He said he would do the choreography if he got a raise for it. Luke, our new trumpet, wasn't sure this would go over well with the audience. However, Mark has a knack for making people laugh and Dance Ten, Looks Three is the song to do that.

I got the solo as Paul in I Hope I Get It. We listened to that section again and the lyrics resonated with me so much I couldn't help but listen. Who am I anyway? Am I my résume?...What does he (or she) want from me? What should I try to be? Being the slayer of the Ender Dragon doesn't make me invincible. Being hailed on the streets gets lonely. They only know what I did, not how I did it. There are several articles on why I chose Caitlin of all people. Some say it was because I wanted more money. (If I wanted money, I wouldn't be a teacher.) Others said I just pitied her and wanted to improve my image. That was partially true, but, if I only pitied her, I'd have wanted her off my back so I can pursue music on my own. However, from the moment she first displayed fondness for me, I knew it was meant to be. I love her with all of my heart. I really do. She loves me back. Why can't people just accept that? Why is it that, because I'm famous, I suddenly have ulterior motives? Is that who I really am, just a caricature of the highlight of my life? That is a picture of a person I don't know.

A lot of people are jealous of me. I don't blame them. They compare my highlight reel to what they experience behind the scenes. If they knew what I was really like, would they still adore me? No. They wouldn't. They don't love me. They only love the hero they think I am. It's very lonely, being famous. For every million people screaming my name, there's one who has the slightest inclination to get to know me for, well, me. Like Caitlin. If I came home in tears, I know she would wipe them away with her delicate fingers and give me a hug. She doesn't ask for much, just some cuddling and good food. I'm always happy to provide those for her. There's Andrew too. He saved my life. My friend, Luke (another Luke, not our new trumpet), died in combat before my eyes. I couldn't live with myself after that, as in, I was just about to drive a sword through my chest when Andrew walked in on me and indirectly telling me that I can. Mark is another prime example. This guy helped me navigate orchestra life and now we're friends.

Still, it hurt knowing so many people just wanted my fame or power and not, well, me. Some think that of Caitlin. They call her manipulative and conniving, preying off of my generosity. And guess what? Some of the people who said that were also the people who called her too nice. Their inconsistency Anyway, that couldn't be further from the truth. She is almost totally altruistic, sometimes at the expense of her health and safety. Manipulating would be very out of character for Caitlin. She would sooner throw a bucket of lava on me than do that. Come to think of it, I don't even think she knows how.

So, who am I anyway?